Afterward
by TheOutgriber
Summary: AU-Madame Morrible holds such a tight grip on the press that Glinda is forced to keep her as press secretary instead of putting her in prison. The result is a chess match, a battle of wills between two formidable women that will end with one victor and many casualties.


I do not own_ Wicked, _the musical based on the novel by Gregory Maguire, which is based on the work of Frank L. Baum. So I guess that makes this a fanfiction of a fanfiction of a fanfiction. Please review!

Afterward

Having sent the Wizard to get his hot air balloon, Glinda rounded on Madame Morrible. She felt vaguely satisfied that Morrible's jaw was hanging open in shock. How she longed to teach that old carp a lesson. Send her to Southstairs Prison. That would teach her to murder the friends of Glinda the Good. She would rule Oz, and help the animals, and make the people happy because that was what Elphie would have wanted. "Guards!" she called. And yet, as the sound of festivating Ozians reached her ears, her heart sank. Elphaba's death brought happiness into their lives.

Morrible's anti-Witch propaganda had been ridiculously effective. Most respectable citizens now believed that talking animals were a menace to society. How was Glinda to help the animals without losing her popularity, and therefore, her position? She and the Wizard had both relied on Morrible's political skill to stay afloat. Morrible had been the most vocal anti-Elphaba propagandist, the story spinner, the first to proclaim Glinda's rise from girl to demigoddess. Glinda would not be able to justify her imprisonment without revealing the truth about Elphaba and facing the wrath of the Ozians. Madame Morrible was a very powerful sorceress. Southstairs would never hold her. Surely, Morrible knew its inner workings like the back of her hand. Glinda wouldn't know; she had never been allowed to visit. Even more troubling, Morrible had an almost magical ability to shift the Ozians' loyalties with little effort.

Glinda nearly allowed herself to groan in frustration, but caught herself, knowing that Glinda the Good would never make such a vulgar gesture. Returning to the present moment, she noticed that Madame Morrible was no longer gaping silently, but had had been babbling for the past two minutes in that syrupy voice. "Glinda _dear_, I know we've had our miniscule differentiations in the past, but I_ do_ hope that this will be an opportunity for…" and on. And on. That babbling meant that Morrible was struggling to get a handle on the situation. Glinda had to be careful; Morrible could be at her most dangerous when her position was under threat. For now, Glinda would do what she did best: Maintain the illusion that everything was under control.

"Madame," she cut in, replicating the cool, imperious tone she had used with the Wizard, "you had better go to your chambers. I'm sure this turn of events has been quite a shock." Morrible's doughy face blushed an angry red, clashing regrettably with her severe green robes. She looked positively taken aback. With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and swept out of the room.

Once Morrible was out of sight, Glinda's heart began to thud in her ears. Now what? Had Elphaba given her the burden of ruling Oz knowing that this would happen? Perhaps this was her punishment. _What would Elphie do? _she wondered silently. She knew the answer. Elphie would never have gotten into this doozy. The thought of a waving, cooing Elphaba descending by bubble to reassure a crowd of needy Ozians was laughable. Elphie would have sooner punctured the bubble than ridden in it. Well, there was nothing to be done now but to play with the cards she had been dealt. The roar of the Clock of the Time Dragon Summoning as much charm as she could muster, Glinda the Good went to address her subjects.

* * *

Madame Morrible steamed down the long hall to her chambers, sharp heels clicking feverishly. This was all so ridiculous. Being ordered to go to her chambers by Glinda Upland of all people. Blindsided! It made her want to scream. It had all happened so quickly. Just an hour ago, she had thought that all would continue as it had for the past few years. Now, the equilibrium that she had painstakingly created was being thrown off. This pesky new bit of information threatened to topple her well-ordered kingdom. Well, that will never do, she thought. She needed to find a way to get Glinda firmly back under her thumb. If only the Wizard hadn't gone soft just as they were nearing victory. Now, Oz knew whether she'd even see him again.

It wasn't that she was worried about the Wizard's well-being; he was a spry man for his age; she would know. Still, she would miss him. He had been so easy to manipulate. The man was born to be ruled. He seemed to realize he was being manipulated, yet he had walked merrily into her trap. He was a good playmate, she thought wistfully.

This was another of her many special talents: Exploiting needs. The best way to make a puppet out of a person was to capitalize on a central need. Elphaba Thropp had wanted to be recognized. Glinda needed to be loved. The Wizard needed to be needed.

This was why she had been certain that Glinda would continue meekly in the role Morrible liked to call "Angel of Encouragement and Good Cheer to the Fawning Masses." Now she was not so sure. She had heard a new note of resolve in Glinda's voice that evening.

Glinda "the Good" seemed to believe that sending the Wizard away gave her the power to make her own decisions. Well, Morrible would go with it for a while. After all, it was thanks to Morrible's influence that Glinda had become so universally loved in the first place. The sheep of Oz were eating out of the palm of her hand. That sort of work would be hard to undo.

Soon, Miss Upland would learn that she needed a minister of propaganda to maintain that oh so good image. Especially since the rumor that Morrible had started that Glinda was a friend of the reprehensible Wicked Witch of the West was spreading like wildfire. Reporters from the Herald were circling like vultures. Glinda would surely come trotting back to Madame Morrible soon enough. She had always been such a weak-willed little creature.

Perhaps this would be interesting. Morrible would test the resolve of Oz's new "ruler." Leave her little reminders to let her know who was really in charge. Would Glinda crack under the pressure, or would she dig in her heels? Time would tell. Guards snapped to attention as Morrible barreled past. Her guards. Well, she could always have Glinda assassinated if need be. By the time she rounded the corner to her chambers, her mind was already drifting off into the magical realm of state funerals and public mourning.


End file.
